


The Hardest Goodbye

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Goodbyes, Hurt, I'm so sorry, Leaving, M/M, changing teams, end of the 2014 season, final
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando's final race of Ferrari wasn't easy at all, but worse and harder things are yet to come. <br/>He just doesn't know it yet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardest Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I'm twisting facts a little here and for the purpose of this work Andrea has not signed for McLaren 2015. Ferrari wouldn't let him get out of his contract so he's still at Ferrari for 2015 season. 
> 
> I'm sorry… Just in advance…
> 
> #ForzaJules  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Fernando exhaled a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as he pulled the car up in parc fermé.  It had been one of the hardest races for him, just trying to nurse the temperamental car to the finish line. Ninth wasn’t really the result he had wanted for his final race with Ferrari but ninth was what he had been handed. It kind of summed up the year, if he was honest about it. But right now that wasn’t what was on his mind. He gave himself a moment to just breathe before he pulled his tired body from the Ferrari for the last time, feeling a lump rise in his throat.

Maybe it was good he had ended so poorly today; at least this way no one wanted him to talk nor was he in the public’s direct attention. Everyone was more interested in Lewis; getting the new World Champion’s reaction or picture. Fernando could happily slip off into the background. Hide in the shadow of the British media who wasn’t particularly interested in his departure when they had a new World Champion on their hands.

He moved quickly through the paddock, heading straight to his cool down room. _Breathe._ This was going to be Ok. Emotional, yes, but he could make it through this. He could make it through the rest of the day. He didn’t make it as far as he wanted; Fabrizio caught him just before he left the garage, taking his helmet and exchanging it for his cap and sunglasses, passing over a bottle of water. Roberta stood just behind him, a sad smile on her face.

Fernando wanted to run now. He was being thrown straight into his press obligations. Though maybe that was a good thing as well, maybe this was all a plan. Maybe if they let him stop he would break down and that would be the end of it. Maybe that was just how it worked. He never did ask Felipe.

With a heavy heart he nodded to them both. _Just one more time._ He sighed, leading Roberta to the press pit.

\- - - -

Fernando felt like he could sleep for years as he finally slumped his way back into his hotel room. He was drained, emotionally and physically. It had all become too much, and fighting back the tears for so long had worn him down. To see them all wearing his shirt got him, the lump sitting strongly in his throat. He couldn’t not show them all his appreciation. For five years they had been his team and he had worn their logo proudly on his chest. It finally felt real; like he actually had now left. He just wanted to curl up on his bed and finally let himself breathe freely. Finally allow himself to let it all out.

The cameras that had been following him around all weekend had finally left him, having captured all the footage they needed. Fernando chose the stairs, feeling the physical ache in his legs still holding him to reality. A stinging reminder that he couldn’t break down just yet. Once his door was shut he could. One the world was shut out he could do what he wanted, but still now he had to be strong.

His fingers shook as he tried to unlock the door, grateful the card worked as a scan rather than the standard hotel door where you had to try and get the light to turn green. He was so glad he was already at his room, that he had told his friends it wasn’t possible for them to stay tonight. He needed this time on his own. He needed this time to feel. He was allowed to need to break down now. The public just never needed to know about it.

“Have been avoiding me.” Fernando froze in the doorway, his mouth open slightly in shock as he looked across the room at the man sitting on the sofa. _No, no, no._ This was never supposed to happen. Fernando’s eyes swam with tears he had no control over. He didn’t want to do this. Of all of them it would be hardest. But of course, _of course_ this couldn’t just slip by. Fernando should have known better. Fernando should have seen this coming.

The first tears he had been fighting all evening slipped down his cheek as he saw his shirt proudly sitting on Andrea’s chest.

“Come here.” Andrea smiled sadly, standing and holding out his arms. Fernando dropped his bag unceremoniously, slamming the door behind him as he crossed to the older man, falling into his embrace. Andrea scooped him up, guiding him back to the sofa and sat them both down. One hand held him tightly as the other danced gently through the Spaniard’s hair. Fernando couldn’t stop the tears now. It was too much. Everything had been too much but this…. He should have been ready for this.

He lost track of how long he stayed curled in Andrea’s arms. How long he gripped tightly to the Italian’s shoulder and refused to let him go. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be letting Andrea go. This wasn’t fair. Why wouldn’t Ferrari give him up? Fernando needed him. He needed someone he knew understood him, he needed someone who knew exactly what had happened in 2007. He needed to know he had someone on his side from the off. But Ferrari wouldn’t let him go.

Andrea let the silence spread on, not really knowing how to break it. Fernando seemed so small, so vulnerable, so broken. But Andrea couldn’t find the words to put it all right. He knew the words Fernando wanted him to say but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to him like that. Instinctually he pulled Fernando closer, rubbing up his back as he dried the silent tears off Fernando’s cheek with his thumb. He thought about Rob. He thought about that day in Maranello after Felipe had left where he literally screamed the factory down until Luca let him go. Maybe Andrea would have to do the same.

But now there was no Luca. To be fair, with all the shuffles in Ferrari recently Andrea didn’t even know who to go to to yell at.

“Everyone was so nice…” Fernando sniffed, shuffling closer still to Andrea. Andrea looked down at him, still holding the worst news of the night on his tongue. “Was nice…”

“Will be missed.” Andrea assured, running his fingers through Fernando’s hair. Fernando let a shaky breath rush across Andrea’s shoulder, his hand running up the Italian’s chest and gripping tightly into the stretchy red material.

“This was a nice touch…”

“Do not have to say anything, Fernando. Understand. Is nothing to prove to me.”

“Know this…” Fernando breathed, tilting his head up to finally look at Andrea. Andrea couldn’t bare to see the sadness their. And only knowing there was more to come he cupped Fernando’s cheek, gently brushing their lips together. Fernando closed his eyes, slipping the hand bundled in Andrea’s shirt behind the Italian’s neck and holding him close. Andrea kissed his nose, determined to wipe the pain and hurt off Fernando’s face.

“Do not want to say…” Fernando couldn’t even finish the sentence, his grip on the Italian intensifying.

“Then do not.” Andrea muttered. Fernando blinked his eyes open, staring deep into the Italian’s. Fernando pulled Andrea’s lips back to his, forcing the Italian close to him and constantly trying to bring him closer. His desperation pulled Andrea off balance, but Fernando just pulled him down on top of him, lips frantic to never be apart from Andrea. Andrea wrapped his arms around Fernando’s back as he moved on top of him, letting the Spaniard still take the lead. He wanted everything to be perfect for Fernando; the only deserving send off the Spaniard could get. Fernando’s hands curled tightly into Andrea’s hair as the Italian kissed down his neck, his legs wrapping around his hips.

“Andrea…” Fernando breathed, arching his back into the Italian. Andrea kissed lightly at his torso pushing the hem high to reveal his gorgeous sun-kissed skin. Fernando gasped, his hold on Andrea tightening the first moment his lips touched skin. “Love you…” Andrea stopped kissing Fernando abruptly, frowning down at the younger man. The small smile that rested on Fernando’s lips made Andrea’s heart melt. They’d been through so much together he could barely stand the though of being apart. And they had come so far since that day they accidently passed the line of friendship. They’d never said ‘I love you’ to each other. But Fernando saying it now just showed how far they’d come.

He crawled back up the Spaniard, pressing their lips back together. Fernando moaned lightly in his mouth, making Andrea rush his hand under his shirt just to feel his warm skin, drown his senses in Fernando. He could never get enough of the Spaniard. He would never want to give him up. It was cruel he was being force to.

“Love… you-” Fernando never let Andrea finish. Claiming his mouth as his own as he sat up, pulling desperately at the shirt covering Andrea’s body. Andrea held him close again, not letting a wisp of air between them. All too soon this was going to be taken away from him and he couldn’t deal with the separation. Fernando moved until he was sitting on Andrea’s lap, leaning over him so the Italian had to tilt his head back to look up at him. Fernando adored the feeling of Andrea looking at him with eyes full of want. He broke their kiss, holding himself just above Andrea as he tried, again, to get his shirt off. It was not working.

“What is this material?” Fernando breathed out a laugh, breaking eye contact with the Italian to look down at his hands, pulling pointlessly at the red fabric. Andrea couldn’t help but beam at him. “Why make it so stretchy?”

“One size fits all, maybe?” Andrea shrugged, easing Fernando off him. Getting up he stood in front of the Spaniard, trapping him in place with an arm either side of his head, resting against the back. “Maybe should take this somewhere more confortable?” Fernando scooted forwards on the sofa, slipping his hands underneath Andrea’s shirt and running them up his back. Finally pulling the shirt over his head Fernando threw it across the room.

“Better.” Andrea couldn’t help but laugh, taking Fernando’s hand in his own and leading him towards the connected bedroom.

“You still have yours on though. This is not so good, no?” Fernando pulled Andrea to a stop just as they crossed the threshold of the bedroom. In one fluid motion the shirt came over his head, slipping slowly from his fingers until it was puddled on the floor. “Now this is better.” He pulled Fernando against him, letting his hands trace his skin. Fernando sighed contently, melting into Andrea’s hold.

“Was not the win we hope for today…” Fernando muttered. Andrea spun them round, backing Fernando towards the bed.

“We always knew the win would be hard. You still do amazingly.” The Italian assured. Fernando nodded sadly.

“Always wanted to win with you…” Andrea knew this was about something much bigger than the race. He remembered the day Fernando had promised he would bring him home a championship. The evening before the Brazilian Grand Prix in 2012. Andrea brushed his hand softly against Fernando’s face. 

“Have always made me so proud. Am so proud of you, Fernando.” He kissed him lightly, begging the Spaniard not to make their last night together one of reminiscing about miss chances. But it seemed like Fernando was set on that; set on not having won the championship with Andrea. “Stop it.” Andrea begged, kissing him again. Fernando tried to swallow his sadness but the lump in his throat wouldn’t shift.

“We should have won-”

“-Will win, Fernando. Are the best driver. The most deserving champion-”

“But you-”

“-Is not about me.” Andrea said. “As long as you are winning you make me proud, Fernando.” He didn’t give Fernando a chance to argue, kissing him passionately and letting his hands roam his body. Fernando fought back with just as much vigour, pulling on Andrea’s shoulders until they toppled back onto the bed. Fernando moved his hips up against Andrea’s, catching the beautiful sounds to leave the Italian’s mouth in his own. He wanted to hold onto Andrea with everything he had, beg him to never leave, plead him to come to McLaren with him. In a tussle of hands and tongues Fernando rolled Andrea under him, controlling the pace and speed of their hips in a way he knew drove the Italian crazy.

“Is always… About you…” Fernando breathed against Andrea’s skin, his hand dancing just under the waistband of Andrea’s Ferrari red trousers. Fernando wanted them gone. He didn’t want to see Andrea looking like he belonged to anyone else but him. He pulled frantically at the belt buckle, discarding the red items’ of clothing as fast as he could. Andrea tried to slow him, calm him, but nothing seemed to matter; nothing seemed to work. Fernando wasn’t satisfied until he had him naked below him.

Andrea was panting hard as Fernando moved down his body. Instinct had his hand curling into Fernando’s hair, parting the soft locks with his fingers. He bit down hard on his lip as Fernando’s beard tickled the inside of his thigh. No matter how many times they did this Andrea still lost his breath when Fernando pleasured him like this. Still the world spun off kilter as Fernando took him into his mouth. Andrea couldn’t help himself; rushing Fernando on as he pushed his hips up into the heat of Fernando’s lips, greedily forcing him to take as much as he could.

Fernando ran his fingers feather-light over Andrea’s inner thigh, making the Italian squirm. Holding himself still and dragging his tongue all over Andrea sensitive length had the Italian rolling off his tongue. Fernando pushed more of Andrea into his mouth, the hot panted breaths from above him causing heat to surge through Fernando’s body. It was at that moment Fernando realised Andrea wasn’t calling Italian; it was Spanish. Andrea was moaning in Spanish. It made Fernando’s heart swell; it made Andrea his.

“P-p-por…” Andrea couldn’t nor needn’t got any further in his plea. So overcome by what was happening Fernando set up releasing the tension and moving. He encouraged Andrea to take the lead, gently squeezing the wrist of the hand buried in his hair. Andrea didn’t wait to be asked twice, selfishly taking over control as he forced Fernando to take him faster and deeper. He was a withering wreck within seconds, and Fernando wasn’t much better. Desperately trying to ditch his shorts, he gave up his sorrowful attempts and settled instead for rutting against the bed. Andrea was setting his skin on fire with every moan that passed his flushed lips.

Pulling Fernando off him, Andrea dragged him up his body, stealing his lips again as he pushed frantically at the material still covering Fernando’s legs. Fernando didn’t argue, kicking the black material to the floor shortly followed by his boxers. Andrea wasted no time taking hold of him and feeling the vibrations of Fernando’s heady moans against his skin. Each one felt like fireworks, jolting him closer to the edge.

Fernando moaned loudly, ripping his lips from Andrea’s as the older man’s free hand slipped over his entrance.

Panting hard Fernando rested his head against Andrea’s chest, trying not to let to dual sensation of bliss ruin things too early. His hands balls tightly into the bed sheets as Andrea slowly teased him open, his hand on his member slightly out of sync in rhythm so as to not reach the crescendo before they wanted to.

But Fernando was shaking with pleasure, shaking with desperation to keep it all in and not loose it all. Wanting to show Andrea just exactly how important he was to him. Fernando had three seconds to breathe before Andrea’s three fingers returned, coating him lightly with lube. He sucked a mark onto the older man’s skin, knowing that he was so close to feeling complete again.

Andrea pushed into Fernando until at his fullest before holding still, letting go of Fernando’s leaking cock and just letting the Spaniard adjust. His onslaught had been fast and he could tell how close Fernando was even now. It wouldn’t take much to have either of them spiralling into the epitome of pleasure. Andrea let himself take a few deep breaths, smoothing down Fernando’s hair and kissing lightly at his temple. So gentle compared to what they had just been through. When Fernando gave two small nods Andrea tipped his chin up, stealing his lips as he pulled slowly out.

Together they slowly worked the pace back up, Fernando’s fingers digging bruises into Andrea’s skin. But Andrea didn’t stop him. Andrea wanted them all. Every little mark that would slowly fade but always be a reminder that Fernando was his and that Fernando loved him. And he loved Fernando to.

“Andrea…” Fernando panted, his body hot as he rolled his hips against Andrea’s. The Italian threw his head back, unprepared for the new rolls of pleasure to attack his body. He grasped tightly at the back of Fernando’s head, pulling him back into a desperate kiss as he pistoned his hips faster, feeling the man in his arms slowly fall apart. Sensing a nearing to the climax Andrea sat up a little and slipped his hand between them, smearing precum over Fernando’s leaking tip. The moans that rolled out of Fernando had him gripping tightly to the back of Andrea’s neck with both hands, meeting his every thrust and forcing the Italian deeper, catching his prostate at random and unexpected times. It didn’t take long for a white blindness to take over his body, making him contract around Andrea, squeezing the older man to follow him over the edge.

Collapsing back on the bed Andrea held Fernando close to him, breathing hard as they both came down off their high. Andrea breathed Fernando in, desperate to remember every aspect of him, the way he smelt, smiled, felt in his arms, felt sticky against his own body as they lay sated. Emotions rushed through him and before he even considered trying to stop it the tears were rolling down his cheeks. Fat blobs of moisture soaked into Fernando’s hair and rushed towards the pillows. He couldn’t let Fernando go. He didn’t want but he knew he never really had a choice.

Andrea peppered Fernando’s face with kisses as he slowly pulled out of him, trying his hardest to make it as comfortable as possible for the Spaniard. But Fernando was curling back into him soon enough, dragging the duvet over the sweat-covered bodies. He pressed a kiss to Andrea’s shoulder, encouraging the Italian to hold him tighter. Andrea kissed his forehead, desperate for anything; desperate to work out a way they could still be together. But it just wasn’t possible. Andrea knew how it worked. Once he left Fernando tonight Ferrari would make it almost impossible for him to see him again.

This was it: their final night.

“Come on…” Andrea whispered, fear that if he spoke any louder Fernando would hear the emotion in his voice. “We clean up.”

“No…” Fernando whimpered, far too comfortable to move. Andrea took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.

“Need to clean up, Fernando.”

“Am comfortable…” Fernando yawned. Andrea couldn’t do this. He had to leave now or he knew he never would. With a heavy heart and resistant limbs he pulled himself from underneath Fernando, moving towards the bathroom. Fernando whined like a child being forced away for school as Andrea ran the warm cloth between his legs. Pouting as Andrea cleaned his arse, cock and stomach Fernando blinked his eyes open, reaching for the cloth once Andrea was finished. “Now I do you.”

“Fernando-” Andrea couldn’t bare the intimacy. He knew each second longer he stayed he was making this harder for Fernando.

“-Please…” Moving to the edge of the bed Fernando kissed Andrea’s hip, holding him close. Andrea relented, his fingers moving to Fernando’s hair as the Spaniard gently passed the damp cloth over him. He should have fought Fernando’s arms when they dragged him back into the bed. He should have pushed Fernando away when he curled around him, resting his head just above his pulsing heartbeat. He should have told Fernando Ferrari had called him back to Italy that night. He should have told him his flight was in four hours and he had to leave. But he didn’t. He said none of those things. Instead he pulled Fernando closer, selfishly stealing his last moments with the Spaniard without even telling him it would all soon be over, like a wonderful dream. 

“I love you, Andrea. With everything…” Fernando sighed contently, hugging the Italian closer. Andrea couldn’t take it.

“I love you too, Fernando.” He muttered, more tears slipping down his face. He felt sick. Why were Ferrari making him do this? Because they didn’t know… They didn’t even know the beginning of it. “Will win, Fernando. Are going to win another championship.”

“For you…” Fernando nodded sleepily. Andrea wanted to say something back, tell him that it wasn’t going to work anymore. Fernando thought they could make it work but it was clear now they couldn’t. Ferrari wouldn’t make it easy and Andrea couldn’t deal with being the one to put Fernando under so much strain.

He would wait until Fernando fell asleep. Take the cowardly option and leave when there was nothing Fernando could do to stop him.

\- - -

Fernando awoke feeling groggy. He wasn’t sure how long he had actually slept for, but it felt like a long time. He cracked on eye open, seeing the clock reading around eleven in the morning. That was late for him to be sleeping in. Maybe now the pressure of the season was off his shoulders he had finally been able to relax. And having Andrea hold him all night was surely to have help with that as well. Smiling lightly, Fernando reached across the bed, seeking out his lover.

The smile crumpled when he felt no one there.

Sitting up quickly Fernando turned to face the other side of the bed. Nothing. He threw back the duvet, all the while the panic rising in his throat. Empty. No one was there. Not even the warmth of a second body remained. Andrea hadn’t been in the bed for a very long time.

It took Fernando three seconds for his eyes to settle on the shirt folded neatly on the desk.

He was already shaking his head in disbelief as he climbed out of bed, his emotions running to the surface again. He had to blink the tears out of his eyes as he pulled on his underwear, crossing quickly to the shirt. He glanced at the door, seeing one identical sitting by the bedroom door; exactly where he had left it last night. He ran back into the main room, tearing the sofa apart as he searched for the shirt he pulled off Andrea last night. But it wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t there.

Fernando noticed the lack of Andrea’s clothed scattered on the floor when he returned to the bedroom. He shook his head, not even trying to stop the tears anymore. This hurt too much. He wanted to curl into a ball and sob his heart out but it had always been Andrea who calmed him down when he was like this. Andrea who had left him in the middle of the night. Fernando ran his hand over the material of the shirt on his desk. Andrea had left him here. Left everything associated to him here. Fernando lifted the shirt to his nose, begging that at least his scent still remained in the weird folds of the stretchy material. But something else caught his eye. Something worse in the bottom left corner:

_Fernando,_

_I love you so much. Always have and always will._

_But our paths are different now._

_You are destined to be world champion again and I will always support you._

_Like I will always love you._

_I know you hate goodbyes, so I hope this is easier for you._

_You are my champion and have my heart._

_Your Andrea_

Fernando fell to the floor, not caring about anything as he sobbed his heart out. Andrea was gone and never coming back. It was always going to be the hardest goodbye, so Andrea had made it the easiest one of the day.

Fernando felt empty; he had missed the most important goodbye of all.

 

_~~El Fin~~_

**Author's Note:**

> There is an alternative ending to this. I haven't written it because it felt like this was a good place to leave it (for now) but if anyone wants the alternate ending or the 'extra scene' just leave a comment and let me know and I'll write that for you :')
> 
> *14*


End file.
